


Monkey Hugs

by joonfired



Series: The Adventures of a Single Dad in Space [7]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Baby Yoda doesn't want to be separated from his dad, Bar Fight, Bounty Hunters, Fluff, Gen, He just a dad trying to do his best, Hugs, Humor, Just Baby Yoda Things, ManDadlorian, Missions Gone Wrong, Other, Parent-Child Relationship, Protective Mandalorian, S1E5 Spoilers, Single dad Mandalorian, Soft Mandalorian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:08:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21631948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joonfired/pseuds/joonfired
Summary: In which the Mandalorian tries to get work but it goes south
Relationships: The Mandalorian & Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV)
Series: The Adventures of a Single Dad in Space [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1549036
Comments: 20
Kudos: 675





	Monkey Hugs

**Author's Note:**

> after reading more fics I realized the green bean reminds me of baby monkeys so naturally I had to write something where he clings to his dad all the time and is basically impossible to remove
> 
> also the title really doesn't fit but I couldn't think of anything else haha  
>  _AND_ this is kind of an alternate take on that cantina scene in ep5
> 
> (super sorry I haven't posted anything Mandalorian in a while; irl got me too busy rn haha)

The Mandalorian was used to being the center of curiosity wherever he went. But the wondering eyes were split between the tall, Beskar-plated figure . . . and the smaller, brown-robed child riding on his shoulder. As the pair entered the dim cantina in the dusty port of Mos Eisley, shifty gazes slid towards them.

He’d  _ tried _ keeping the child in the ship for safety— _ he should have learned this lesson back on Sorgan _ —but that plan had quickly failed. Peaceful sleep had turned to dismayed wails, and then with a creak and groan of metal, the hatch door had slammed open to reveal the child’s teary features.

“All right, you little womp rat, you,” the Mandalorian had said, scooping the child up.

It was easier maneuvering with the child perched on his shoulder, small hands clinging with an almost unbreakable grip to the linen material of his outfit. And with the power it possessed in that tiny body, maybe toting it along was best?

But such decisions were more and more made by the child than by him.

“I’m looking for work,” he told the droid tending the bar.

There were many more droids in this cantina than the last time he’d visited. In fact, the first thing he’d appreciated about this dusty place was that it was quite clear in denying access to them. Guess that was another one of the changes since the Imperical Fall . . .

The black droid tipped its head up in a gesture meant to imply that it was inspecting the child, who had returned the curious look without hesitation.

“We don’t have Guild work here anymore,” the droid intoned.

“I’m not Guild,” he clarified, although it was the first time he’d stated it aloud since Nevarro.

“Hey, over here!” a voice called behind them, and the Mandalorian turned to look.

It was the young nerfherder who he’d immediately labeled as incompetent the moment the Mandalorian saw him lounging at the cantina booth. The young man grinned and waved him over enthusiastically.

“That’s a cute lil partner you got there,” he said, gesturing to the kid.

“What do you have for me?” the Mandalorian asked, ignoring the awkward attempt at small talk.

He had a mechanic bill to pay and supplies to restock. Oh, and pretty much all the living members of the Guild with a fob on the kid sitting on his shoulder.

“A team-up,” the man said, tossing a bounty puck onto the table. “Name’s Toro Calican.”

The Mandalorian activated the puck, and the blue holo face that appeared did not answer to that name.

“This is Fennic Shand,” he corrected.

“Oh, sorry!” The man chuckled, extending his hand. “I meant to say  _ I’m _ Toro Calican.”

The Mandalorian didn’t shake his hand. He slid the puck back to Toro, the holo face disappearing when the puck thumped to a stop against the surprised hunter’s vest.

“Good luck,” he said, getting to his feet. The child cooed questioningly, wriggling a little against the Mandalorian’s shoulder. “You’re gonna need it.”

And then a pair of Rodian’s burst into the cantina, a tracking fob held by one and shortly aimed in the child’s direction.

“Damn it,” the Mandalorian said.

“Hey, no blasters,” the droid at the bar droned, right before the Rodian drew and shot at the Mandalorian.

The shot pinged off his Beskar chestplate, sending the meager occupants of the cantina scattering for cover. The Mandalorian darted to the side and ducked behind the protection of the bar, the child climbing over his shoulder. It’s small hands dug into the material of his neck-band.

“Hold on, kid,” the Mandalorian said, drawing his blaster.

“Are you Guil- _ hey _ !” There was another blaster shot that cut-off Toro’s question. And then, “You  _ shot _ me?”

More blaster shots and the sound of a body falling, which the Mandalorian edged his helmet around the corner of the bar to take a look at the proceedings.

The young, chatty hunter was crouched behind his booth table with a blaster in hand and his other pressed to his left bicep, a Rodian corpse at his feet. The other Rodian was taking cover in the entryway of the cantina, nothing but the muzzle tip of its blaster showing.

Toro caught the Mandalorian looking and made a ‘ _ what the hell is this?’ _ expression.

The Mandalorian ignored him . . . again.

With the clinging warmth of the child against his neck, small claws dug into the cloth and protected from the front, he thought about charging the Rodian. But what if that Toro Calican caught onto the fact he was an active bounty? He could easily jump in and claim the prize, the child defenseless in its current position.

Decision made, the Mandalorian tensed in preparation.

“All right, kid,” he said. “Here we go again.”

The Mandalorian got to his feet and fired in the direction of the Rodian, catching the bounty hunter in the chest as it stepped out at his movement. Even before the body had hit the ground, the Mandalorian spun and pointed his blaster at Toro Calican.

“Hey, what’s going on here?” the hunter stammered, clutching his blaster almost like it gave him childish comfort than being a weapon for his protection. “Look, I’m just trying to get into the Guild and they gave me this puck to prove myself. That’s all I want. That’s it.”

Suddenly, the child screeched and the Mandalorian felt someone trying to remove it from his shoulders.

A third, backup Rodian had entered from a back door and had somehow crept up on him while he was ridiculously distracted by the inexperienced hunter. But the child was screeching and clinging tightly to the Mandalorian, claws gripped so tight they stung at the skin of his neck.

The Mandalorian jabbed an armored elbow back, hitting the Rodian hard enough for it to release the child and stumble back for a moment. This gave him the room and time to turn, protecting the child and enabling him to bring his blaster up and shoot the bounty hunter between its beetle eyes.

When he turned back around after the body had fallen, helmet scanning for further attacking life forms, Toro Calican was scrambling out the door. So much for his Guild dreams, if he ran at a mild fight like this.

“Hey there, womp rat,” the Mandalorian said fondly, reaching for the child . . . while still keeping his blaster at the ready in his other hand.

The child whimpered quietly as it clambered back over his shoulder and into the crook of his arm, curling into the protective cradle. It was shaking a little, and such vulnerability made the Mandalorian want to shoot the fallen Rodians a few more times.

“Guess I’ll have to set up a little Beskar sling for you, hmm?” he asked as he left the now-emptied cantina.

And he guessed it was time for him to try another method of gathering credits.

**Author's Note:**

> Greedo was a Rodian


End file.
